Monday, May 18, 2009

A Dammit Farms Update

My loving nickname for my little acreage is "Dammit Farms". There are many "dammit" moments here, so it is fitting. Jason is in the process of building a new fence, and I have requested that he make us an archway that reads: "Dammit Farms". His response was that I better learn how to weld. No archway for us until I take some welding lessons...sigh.

Stuff that has happened lately:

Somebody dumped a cat on us. He is a young male and he is all black. I have named him Leeroy, and I am now feeding him as well as our resident barn cat, Lulu.

I am making progress with Lulu. She doesn't run from me anymore. I am hoping to create a relationship with her, so that I can snatch her up and take her to the vet to get spayed.

A skunk got trapped under the hen house one night. Before we could do anything about it, he had freed himself. Before freeing himself he sprayed at least...oh..a DOZEN times. Now my poor birds are living in stench.

All three of my turkeys are sitting on a mountain of chicken eggs in the back of the hen house. They are sitting on the eggs, since my hens are crappy moms and don't care to do so. Those eggs are never going to hatch. I need to find a time when they all leave, so I can remove all the yucky eggs.

The kids, meaning the goat babies, are down to two bottle feedings a day. Hallelujah! I love the little things, but I'll be glad when this whole bottle thing is done. I know now why I breastfeed my human babies: it's not because it's what is best for them, or for bonding, or because I'm a selfless mother. Nope. I do it because washing bottles is a giant, sharp pain in the rear!

We still have yet to get a friend for Patty. For now, I am spending as much time with her so that she doesn't feel like a forgotten little milk goat. She's my sweetie, and I truly enjoy just hanging with her.

Merlin, our cat, rarely eats any of his kills. Most of them get brought up to the porch where we plays with them (sometimes dead, sometimes not). The biggest surprise was the rat, not a mouse, a freakin rat. I don't know if I had ever seen one before that... Way bigger than a mouse and definitely something you don't want to accidently run into on your back stoop. Ever since then I have been thinking about doubling or tripling our barncat roll-call... :-0

About Me

I have three sons, who are stacked like pancakes (six, five, and two). I live in an old farmhouse between a cow pasture and a wheat field. I grew up in suburbia, so rural life is a new adventure for me. Aside from my sons, I am a mommy to a bitchy rescued goat, a mounting number of barn cats, my three couch-hounds (yes, that is their official breed), a goofy mastiff named Kaiser, an old ex-hunting dog, and a three legged pit bull mutt. What else? I'm married to a guy with a bunch of old jeeps, and tattoos, who is a mechanical genius. I let my kids watch t.v., and play in the dirt. I have crooked pinkies. I love Henry Rollins, but hate his music. I'm a vegan. I have a useless English degree. I am a crappy housekeeper, but a good cook.uhhhh....that's about it.